


Not Quite Paradise

by silverspidertm2



Series: Stories from Me to You [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Cartoon), Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drama, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-09 15:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverspidertm2/pseuds/silverspidertm2
Summary: In Peter’s defense, his most recent examples of parenthood were a psychotic Celestial and a well-meaning, though still very rough around the edges, Ravager captain...





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all who reviewed and liked “Moving the Stars”. Hopefully you’ll like what else I have in store in this series :) There’s going to be a loosely threaded together plot that’s going to take the Milano to Knowhere and then Xandar, with many familiar faces along the way from the movies, comics, and animated series. But first maybe Peter should probably figure out this whole parenting thing…

Looking back on it, Peter should have realized what the problem was before it ever became a problem. He had maybe assumed that since he’d turned okay having been raised by space pirates since age eight, caring for Victoria, who was definitely more mature than he was at her age - and arguably even now - was going to be a piece of cake. It wasn’t like she was _that_ little and couldn’t outright _tell_ him if something was wrong. Right?

It wasn’t even he who noticed it first. Drax approached him one day while he and Rocket were in engineering arguing about the latest modifications the raccoon wanted to make to the ship.

“Are you aware,” the big man frowned at him, “that your small child has fallen asleep in the galley again?”

“Drax, we’ve been over this,” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s my kid sister, not my _actual_ kid.”

“She is a child and she is your charge. Any relation beyond that is irrelevant.”

That was Drax’s irritated voice. Not let-me-go-gleefully-gut-some-monsters voice, but the get-your-shit-together-and-be-a-responsible-adult voice. He usually heard it from Gamora but it was her turn to pilot and the galley was generally Drax’s domain. While he didn’t necessarily see anything wrong with taking a short nap in the kitchen, Peter knew Drax was not going to let it go, so he rose and made his way over there where he found Victoria with her head cradled in her arms on the table. He checked the ship’s clock which read out a little past 1400 back to him.

In other words, the middle of the day.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked quietly, picking her up.

The girl acknowledged the question with an indistinct noise, nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, and fell asleep again. _Weird_ , Peter thought as he carried her back to his quarters and because that’s what his mom would have done, pressed a palm to her forehead. _Nope. No fever._ He gently deposited her on the bed and was just about to leave when Victoria rolled over and made a face.

“Lights?” she asked groggily.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

He dimmed the lights and returned to engineering, surprised to find Drax still there, still frowning. “Is she ill?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“Her sleep patterns are odd. Children _should_ grow out of this behavior in infancy. Are Spartoi different?”

“I understood about half of what you said, man.”

The next time a similar incident occurred he was the one asleep. Even resting, Peter knew the Milano so well that even the slightest motion that didn’t belong woke him. He figured no one was shooting at them because no alarm bells were going off yet, so he stretched and made his way to the cockpit where he found Rocket and his sister. With a mixture of horror and amusement, Peter realized that the flight controls were switched to his usual seat, the one Victoria now occupied.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain Victoria.” The girl swiveled and gave him a sheepish look followed by a small nod. Peter shook his head with mock disappointment. “No, no, no. You’re supposed to say, ‘permission granted’. What have I been teaching you?”

If Gamora was here, she’d have a lot of answers to that question, not all of them positive.

“Anyway, this looks fun,” he leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms, smiling, “but ‘Don’t take over the Milano to have imaginary space battle while the _actual_ captain’s napping’ isn’t a rule I thought we needed. Do we need it?”

Victoria blanched, but Rocket just rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t gonna let ‘er crash or anything,” his teammate protested, but switched controls back to his own seat. “ ‘Sides we could always use another pilot. At this rate she’ll figure it out faster than Drax.”

“Not the point.” _But yeah, good point…_ He held out his hand to Victoria. “Come on, kiddo. It’s way past your bedtime.”

“But I’m not tired.”

It was as close to whining as she came, because generally speaking Victoria was infinitely better behaved that he’d ever been around the same age. In comparison, it was a small wonder Yondu didn’t deliver him to Ego or actually make good on his threat to eat him just to be rid of him.

“Your ‘not tired’ is noted, but no more pretend space battles. I’ll teach you how to fly for real when you’re a little older.”

“When’s that?”

“When you’re…” when had Yondu started with him? “ten. When you’re ten, I’ll start teaching you how to fly the Milano, I promise.”

“That’s three whole years from now!”

“I know.” He paused when they got to his quarters, the broken sleep finally catching up to him. “Look, I know you’re a little bored up here. As soon as we get to Knowhere, we’ll get you some books and toys, but you can’t play with the ship’s systems. It could be really dangerous. Okay?”

“Okay.” No, she didn’t whine, but boy, could she pout like a pro.

Peter pulled out the Zune from his pocket and handed it to her. “Why don’t you listen to some tunes while I get a little more shut-eye?”

His eyes closed again almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Before sleep completely took him, Peter felt the mattress shift around a little as Victoria made herself comfortable at his side and if he listened hard enough, he could just make out the song she was listening to. ♪ _Not quite paradise, but it sure feels like home...♪_

He awoke for the second time to the sound of muffled laughter. He tried to lift his arm from over his face only to realize that it wasn’t even his limb, and that, yup, Victoria’s foot was, in fact, right in front of his nose as the girl had somehow ended up turning nearly 180 degrees in her sleep. And taking all the blankets with her.

Which explained why Gamora was standing over the bed and trying hard not to laugh.

“You know,” she cleared her throat, amusement still apparent in her voice, “if I had ever pictured finding you in bed with another pretty girl, I have to admit this isn’t exactly what I pictured.”

Peter groaned and removed the foot before Victoria accidentally kicked him in the face in her sleep. “Please tell me there’s coffee.”

“There’s something that passes for coffee,” Gamora offered. “We won’t get the real thing until Xandar, you know that.”

“Can’t believe Knowhere doesn’t have coffee,” he complained, but rose and followed her to the galley. The remainders of Drax’s latest culinary experiment were still in the sink, and Peter did his best to avoid looking there as he poured himself a cup.

“You’re need to deal with this sleep issue of hers sooner rather than later,” the woman pointed out. Peter squinted at her over his cup, not quite awake himself yet. “Tell me you haven’t noticed how random her sleep is.”

“It’s space. Everyone’s on a different… oh, crap.” All at once he knew _exactly_ what the problem was, and it was all Peter could do not to smack himself. “She’s not used to space. That’s the problem. She’s lived on a planet all her life with normal solar cycles, but up here day and night are completely artificial and depend on what shift you’re on. I went through _exactly_ the same thing when the Ravagers first picked me up. I can’t believe I forgot. I was miserable for a _week_.”

“And then?” Gamora prompted.

“And then,” he tried to remember, “Yondu put me to work. Small stuff at first, like cleaning things around the ship, making sure all the weapons worked properly. I had chores to do just like the rest of the crew.”

In hindsight, knowing what he did now, Peter realized that it was the moment Yondu must have decided to keep him. Who cared if he was a little tired and cranky while he was cargo for Ego, but a real crew member? A real crew member had to be sharp, well-trained. Peter pushed the thought away and focused on the immediate problem.

“You had a schedule,” Gamora finished the thought for for him.

He nodded. “Usually by the time I was done with all my chores and whatever Yondu had to teach me, I was too tired for anything but sleep.”

He and Gamora looked at one another for a long time until she spoke again. “So schedule?”

“Schedule,” Peter agreed.

He’d see if he could get Victoria to sleep more or less when he did. That way if they were both up at the same time, he could start teaching her things around the Milano. Not flying yet, but if she learned at least a little bit how the various systems worked it would be a step in the right direction and she’d be less inclined to think of the ship as a toy.

He was feeling quite pleased with this breakthrough until Gamora spoke again.

“You know one of these days we’re going to have to talk about living arrangements, too.”

“Oh?” _This should be interesting…_

“About Victoria.”

“Oh.” _Not so interesting._

“She’s a little girl now,” Gamora went on, either oblivious to or ignoring his disappointment, “but she’ll grow, and _adolescent_ girls need privacy, especially from their fathers or brothers.”

“I’m not her father,” What was with everyone?

“That’s not the point.”

“I don’t get the point.”

“You do,” she gave him a look. “I know you made room for her, and that’s fine for now…”

“M-ships are great, but they’re not luxury cruisers,” he pointed out, because as much as he loved the Milano, it really wasn’t as spacious as he’d like to pretend and because Peter was going to put off thinking of his sister’s coming teenage years for as long as he possibly could. An idea came to him, and he gave Gamora a sly grin. “If you’re concerned, why don’t you move in with me, and Vicky can take your room? Captain’s quarters _are_ the biggest.”

“I have a better idea,” Gamora folded her arms and put on her oh, so frequent nice-try-I’m-not-impressed-Peter-Quill expression. “Why don’t _you_ move into my quarters, and Victoria and I can stay in yours. Since the captain’s quarters _are_ biggest.”

 _Swing and a miss, Star-Lord_ , but he wasn’t actually disappointed. What they had - no longer unspoken, though still undefined - was still very new and for once in his life, Peter felt that it was much more important to nurture the new… whatever it was, than to rush it. Besides, he had a couple years still to convince her that his proposal for the living arrangement swap was the most brilliant idea ever.

* * *

Getting Victoria on a tighter schedule definitely helped. The girl was much more alert and active when she was awake, and Peter found he could usually coax her to sleep with a few choice songs from the Zune or bedtime stories, some that he remembered from his childhood, others he simply made up.

“...and then it turned out that the princess hid the plans for the Death Star on the little droid, so Luke and Obi-Wan...”

“What’s a Death Star?” Victoria interrupted his grand retelling of _A New Hope_.

“You’ll see, oh impatient one. Where was I?”

“Princess Leia. She’s not doing anything, though.” There was a note of disappointment in her voice.

“Hey, she does plenty,” Peter objected on behalf of the sci-fi icon. “She back talks all the bad guys, even Darth Vader. And just wait! Later on she fights this really nasty gangster that looks like a giant worm.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Victoria perked up. “Go on.”

“Nope.” He pointed to the clock. “You know what time it is. No more stories until tomorrow night.” Her bottom lip protruded slightly, but he shook his head in mock solemness. “I’m growing immune to your magic pouting powers, but nice try, princess.”

“I liked ‘Captain Victoria’ better,” she declared but climbed off his bed and padded across the room to her own.

“A woman after my own heart,” Peter chuckled.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” she asked after he tucked her in.

“I want to show you how the ship's life support and backups work,” he told her. “It’ll take a few tries, but it’s really important you learn how they work, especially the emergency systems. Just in case.”

 _In case any part of the ship is exposed to the vacuum of space, and…_ Peter closed his eyes momentarily to put a halt on that train of thought. He wanted to sleep that night too and like all kids, Victoria was damn good at picking up on his moods and tended to stress if he did.

“It’s important,” she repeated. Peter nodded and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

“Good night, baby sis. I love you.”

He just managed to rise before Victoria asked, “When are the others going to teach me things?”

Peter’s brows drew together slightly. “What kind of things?”

“Gamora said she’d teach me how to fight.”

 _Oh, really?_ “I think Gamora and I need to have a talk about that. I don’t want you to get hurt. Go to sleep now. We have lots to do tomorrow.”

He still couldn’t quite decide if he was mad or not by the time he found the green skinned woman. Gamora and Drax were sparing in one of the few places on the ship open enough to accommodate it, both already sporting an impressive array of blossoming bruises. Maybe he wasn’t going to be mad, but annoyed sounded about right.

“Guys,” he let out a sharp whistle to get their attention. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need Gamora for a minute.”

Both warriors stopped and looked at him. Drax tilted his head. “A minute doesn’t seem nearly long enough to…”

“Dude!”

“What is it?” Gamora wiped her forehead, not even batting an eyelash at the direction Drax’s comment was going in.

Peter shook his head to clear it. He didn’t really want to chew her out in front of anyone else, but just in case Drax was also thinking about teaching Victoria something dangerous, maybe it was a good time to talk about some boundaries.

“Did you tell Vicky you’d teach her how to fight?” he asked.

“I told her I’d teach her how to defend herself,” Gamora replied, apparently not seeing anything wrong with that. “Why?”

“Because I wish you’d talked to me first,” he tried to keep the frustration out of his voice but failed, “because I would’ve said that she’s fifty pounds soaking wet and doesn’t need to end up looking like you two right about now.”

“We’re talking about basic self-defense,” Gamora’s hands were on her hips, a clear sign of displeasure. “There’s a right level for everyone and every age. You _do_ understand I wasn’t planning to beat her up, but space is hostile and she needs to be able to protect herself.”

“There are more than enough adults with more than enough weapons on this ship to protect her,” Peter protested but stopped when he felt Drax’s hand on his shoulder.

“I will die,” the other man said seriously, “before I let any harm come to another little girl, but Gamora is correct. You may not like it, but some form of training is warranted.”

He hated it when they ganged up on him. It wasn’t that they were wrong, Peter knew. He just wanted Victoria to be a kid as long as possible, and allowing combat training meant acknowledging that, yes, sometime, likely in the not-too-distant future, she might actually need. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“I still wish you talked to me first,” he told Gamora, who inclined her head in acknowledgment. “We’ll carve out some time for it. Life support systems first, though.”

Two days later, he’d wish he’d said yes right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this fic is taken from another great scifi movie with an awesome (mostly 90s) soundtrack, Titan A.E.. Also Victoria’s preference to being called ‘Captain’ instead of ‘Princess’ is a nod at the animated series and comics where, despite being a princess of sorts (the illegitimate daughter, though still possible heir, of Emperor J’Son), she takes a lot more pride in her role as Captain of the Royal Guard of Spartax.


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter pulls a certain object and said object’s back story from a Guardians of the Galaxy animated series episode. See below for pic if you’re on AO3. If you’re not, come find this fic there 

As far as the universe was concerned, Chitauri were bottom-feeding scum, made difficult to deal with by their numbers and by whoever organized them. A lone scout ship shouldn’t have been a problem for an M-ship, something the Guardians should have been able to avoid or dispatch in their sleep. Except this one somehow managed to take out their thrusters, and the Milano was literally dead in space as the scout ship blew a hole in the rear left side which allowed three of the aliens to board before sealing itself off.

Not that even that was a monumental issue. Peter was still in the cockpit, busy taking out the scout ship - thankfully their weapons were mostly undamaged - when he heard a small pop of explosives and saw on the monitor that Rocket was standing over a Chitauri with a missing head. Another was quickly dispatched by Drax. He checked the monitors again. Where was the third one?

The scout ship promptly exploded, and Peter was out of his seat, blaster in hand, but before he could wonder where to look for the remaining alien, there was a high pitched scream from somewhere within the ship that made his blood turn to ice.

“Victoria!”

Heart pounding, he ran towards the sound. Peter skidded to a halt right behind her just in time to see the little girl skitter backwards until her back hit a crate. The last Chitauri loomed over her, hissing like a monster from every horror movie he’d ever seen. But before he could even raise his blaster, it was over. A gush of alien fluids splashed over the girl as Gamora yanked her sword out from the creature’s back. Victoria yelped, and the monster’s lifeless body fell on the floor beside her. For a heartbeat the three of them were silent, then Victoria started sobbing and launched herself into Gamora’s arms. Peter released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

It was the first time he had ever seen his little sister cry. Gamora stood with the little girl in her arms, rubbing her back soothingly. Turning half a step, she finally noticed him and walked over to try to pass Victoria over to him, but the child held onto her for dear life. The danger had passed but the fear and shock and trauma remained, and Peter suspected it would linger for a while. He could still remember the first body at his own feet and the after-image of a red arrow rushing through the creature’s skull.

This was not going away anytime soon.

Unsurprisingly, she woke up screaming that night. And the next. And the one after that taking all their hard-earned progress with schedules and sleep completely out the airlock. Peter didn’t know what to do other than try to sooth her as best as he could when it happened. Mostly he half-sang, half-hummed to her until they managed to salvage what little remained of their sleep.

“If you want,” he offered one night, helpless, “if space is too scary, I can take you back to Spartax.”

“No! Don’t leave me!”

That was quite possibly the worst thing he could have picked to say. Victoria only cried harder, clinging to him like a vice. 

“I won’t,” Peter hugged her back, silently cursing his obvious blunder. “Not going anywhere, baby sis. I’m  _ so _ sorry. That was a very,  _ very _ dumb thing for me to say. I’m sorry.”

It would all subside eventually, he knew, but until then things were going to be a little rough.

It must have been  _ really _ wearing on him, though, because when he passed Drax in the hall the next morning, the other man stopped, looked him up and down, and said matter-of-factly, “You look terrible, Quill.”

After a momentary delayed reaction, Peter signed and wiped a hand over his face. “Vicky’s not sleeping. Chitauri a-holes…”

Drax looked at him, uncomprehending, because something like three Chitauri scouts didn’t even register as a threat to him. Then, as if remembering something that happened a long time ago, he let out an “Ah”, nodded, and turned on his heel without another word to walk back in the direction of his own quarters.  _ Good talk _ , Peter thought wryly, though it was by far not the weirdest thing his friend had ever said or done.

He made a quick trip to the galley to pick up some water - because if he had another sip of the not!coffee Peter was sure even the real thing would be ruined for him - and returned to his quarters. He didn’t expect to see Drax there, kneeling in front of Victoria and holding out what appeared to be an odd-shaped pink stuffed animal to the girl. Peter had no idea where he’d gotten it, but that question was quickly answered when his friend spoke.

“This is Mr. Rhinopus.” He held the toy out to the girl and closed her hands around it. “When I feel sad or anxious, holding him helps me rest easier. I thought perhaps he might make you feel better.”

Victoria touched the toy’s head, unsure, “You have nightmares?”

“Yes.” Drax admitted, because if he often blundered in conversations with adults, it seemed he knew exactly how to be around children, both Victoria and baby Groot. “I dream about monsters, too.”

Peter let his gaze fall to the floor, lest Victoria look up and see the sadness in his eyes. Of course Drax’s monsters were not Chitauri, but Ronan. Even in death, the Kree fanatic haunted him. The pain of the loss of his wife and daughter would no more go away than Peter’s own at the deaths of his mother and Yondu. Dull, yes, because that’s what time did, but it would always be a part of them.

“You should keep it,” the girl pushed the toy back to the big man. “I don’t want you to have bad dreams.”

“I’m alright.” Even from his place behind him, Peter could tell Drax was smiling. “This was my daughter’s…”

Peter’s head snapped up, eyes wide, and he took a step forward. “Drax, man…”

“Quiet.” His friend held up his arm, and he realized he must have always known he was there even while all his attention was focused on Victoria. “I believe Kamaria would like for it to be with someone who  _ truly _ needs it.”

Cautiously, Victoria took the toy, looking down and squeezing it with her fingers. She was quiet for a long moment, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Drax hugged her back, then stood, patted her head, and turned to leave. Peter caught him in the door.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly, so that Victoria, now preoccupied with the stuffed animal, couldn't hear. “I’ll get her her own toys.”

“You heard what I said?” Peter nodded. “Then I have nothing to add. Kamaria would have liked this. I imagine they might have been… friends.”

He left without another word, and Peter knew that, as selfless as the gesture had been, it pained Drax to part with one of the few things he had left of his daughter. Memories must have bubbled up to the surface, and he couldn’t blame him if the man for wanting to be alone for a while.

For the first time since the attack, Victoria slept through the night, curled up next to him and clutching Mr. Rhinopus. The next night, she was already sleeping in her own bed. Peter sent a silent thanks to Kamaria for the toy, and made a mental note to do something for Drax as soon as they got to Knowhere.

He only wished Victoria sleeping again meant he could catch up on some sleep as well, but alas that was not the case. Ship duties had piled up, and as much as the others stepped in while he was busy with the child, there was still enough to do that sleep would have to wait. Not wanting to wake her with extra light, Peter migrated to the cockpit to review incoming contracts for an hour until he felt like his eyes had sand in them. Annoyed, he shut off the screen. No more work was going to get done that shift, that was for sure.

Peter wandered back towards the crew quarters, opened a door, and practically fell forward onto a bed. It didn’t even register in his sleep-deprived brain that said bed was much narrower than his actual one in the captain’s quarters, and he would have probably completed his journey to dreamland if a certain someone hadn’t cleared her throat.

“That’s my bed, you know.”

Gamora sounded only mildly annoyed, and he tried to remember how he’d ended up in her room instead of his own. In most cases there would be a funny - maybe even pleasurable - story behind such an incident, but he strongly suspected this wasn’t the case. Too tired to think of a witty response, he simply raised his hand and waved before letting it fall back to his side.

“You can’t stay here, Peter.”

“Tired,” he mumbled into the pillow. Admittedly, he did have just enough mental processing power left to recognize how nice it smelled.

Somewhere above him, Gamora sighed. “Fine. I have duties anyway. How’s Victoria?” He raised a thumbs up in response. “Good. I’ll check on her when I’m done.”

He almost didn’t hear the last part.

Peter must have slept so deeply that he didn’t remember any dreams or any sense of passed time. One minute his head was hitting the pillow, and the next he was being shaken awake by his sister who stood next to the bed. Peter rubbed sleep from his eyes until her face came into focus.

“What’re you doing in Gamora’s room?” Victoria asked innocently, head cocked slightly in confusion.

_ Not nearly as much as I’d like. _ “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What’s up, baby sis?”

“It’s time to get up,” the girl said cheerfully, apparently having forgotten all about her prior question.

Peter’s head fell back down for a moment. He made a face but then pushed himself back up to a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d worked so hard to get Victoria on a normal sleeping schedule, it would’ve looked bad if he begged for an extra hour no matter how much he felt he could use it.

“I’m up,” Peter declared, rubbing his face.

“Good,” she beamed. “Wanna come see me train?”

* * *

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d gotten the invitation. Aside from himself, Rocket and Groot perched on a crate facing the area that Gamora and Drax usually used for sparing. Mr. Rhinopus also occupied that place of honor, and Groot kept hugging it, even if the toy was almost the sapling’s size. Drax stood off to the side.

Victoria followed Gamora onto the mat, barefoot, but wearing her grey practice clothes from ballet which offered her the most freedom of movement. Gamora walked over to the rack of weapons and picked two bo staffs. Peter noted nervously that they were nearly twice his sister’s height, but he trusted that Gamora knew what she was doing. Next to him, Rocket smirked.

“Ten units says the kid cries.” This was followed promptly by a light smack upside the head by both Peter and Drax. Their friend bristled. “I’m just sayin’; give me a blaster any day. Point and pull trigger. Easy.”

“Over my dead body,” Peter said seriously. Even Yondu, who had often left him black and blue while teaching him how to fight, hadn’t let him near any firearms until he was in his teens. “No guns.”

The whole side conversation was completely ignored by the ladies. Gamora was busy showing Victoria how to hold the staff properly and it was obvious she was having some trouble with it, continuously dropping her left which caused the staff to catch on the ground.

“It’s too big,” she looked at Gamora. “I’m little.”

“You are,” the woman agreed, “but that’s alright, and the staff will help. The most important thing it does is extend your reach.”

Victoria seemed to think about it. “Like Groot’s vines.”

“Exactly,” Gamora smiled, inclining her head towards the sapling. “Groot’s smaller than you, but he’s pretty tough, right?” The girl nodded, more enthused. “Alright, show me your fighting stance.”

They went on like that for an hour, Gamora constantly adjusting her posture or the way she held the staff. Victoria didn’t complain once, much more focused than Peter ever thought possible for someone so young. At least part of that had to be part of the discipline she’d developed from several years of ballet training. Even when Gamora gave her a series of exercises to repeat for an hour and declared that they would be doing more of this together every day, there wasn’t a peep of complaint from the child.

Peter wasn’t so full of himself that he wasn’t more than willing to admit that, yes, Gamora had been absolutely right about the training. The Chitauri attack proved that it was necessary, but it also had the added benefits of solving whatever remaining sleep issues Victoria had because after a day of training from Gamora and ship lessons from him, the girl fell into bed and slept so deeply that Peter lost all reservations about working from his quarters during that time.

There  _ may _ have been one more lingering problem.

“Peter…” He looked up from the computer console when Victoria tugged on his sleeve. “Can you do my hair?”

She was already dressed in the training clothes, but he saw that her hair, while brushed, stuck out in that unruly way her curls tended to do. Adorable if she was just running around the ship but probably more than a little annoying for combat training. The problem was he had literally no idea what to do with it.

“Sure, baby,” he lied.  _ Fake it till you make it, Quill _ . “Want to bring me your brush and hair bands?”

It did  _ not _ go well.

After fifteen minutes of “Ow, you’re pulling!”, trying to get stragglers, and complaints that she was going to be late, Peter gave up.

“Do you want to ask Gamora?” he asked helplessly.

“I did,” the little girl wrinkled her nose in annoyance. “She said she doesn’t know how to braid because her sister doesn’t have any hair.”

_ Isn’t that convenient _ , Peter sighed. He’d seen Gamora wear a loose, basic braid but Victoria’s hair was probably a little too short for that. His eyes fell on the stuffed animal perched in the corner of his sister’s bunk, and suddenly he knew just who to ask.

Drax was more than willing to oblige, but the moment Peter turned to leave, deeming Victoria in capable hands, the other man glared at him.

“Stay put and learn,” he told him in a tone that brooked no argument.

A few minutes later, Gamora came by as well in search of her tardy student and they both watched Drax expertly cross and twist the girl’s hair until there was a crown braid encircling her head with not a single lock out of place. Peter was very impressed.

“You look like Princess Leia,” he told his sister.

Victoria had yet to be convinced that the space princess was cool, but she beamed at him. “You’re going to do my hair like this every morning.”

_ Crap _ .

“Drax might have to show it to me a few more times before I get the hang of it,” he said, then looking at Gamora, added. “Show us.”

Because if he was going to suffer through hair braiding for the next several years, Star-Lord was damned if he was going to do it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have mixed feelings about this chapter. There are elements of it I like, and others that feel weird. I blame Vicky who’s pov I decided to attempt and who asks a metric ton of questions which lead to awkward dialog :P Anywho, that’s it for this part of the series. The next will be on Knowhere and hopefully with a little more plot. Not that I mind the fluff 

Victoria was old enough that she knew that words like ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ implied a common bond, though she had trouble understanding what exactly that connection was. Everyone aboard the Milano referred to each other as family, but her and Peter’s relationship was different somehow.

Gamora had mentioned a sister a few times while they were training, and innocently Victoria had asked what made them sisters.

“We grew up together,” her teacher explained during a break, looking a little sad. “We were… trained by the same person.”

“Peter and I didn’t grow up together,” Victoria mused.

“You’re not grown up at all,” Gamora smiled at her, diverting her attention from the mystery. “Not so sure about your brother either.”

Still, it puzzled the girl. Some of the kids she’d lived with had siblings, because they had the same mom or dad or both, but so far Victoria didn’t see how that applied to her and her brother. Peter talked about his mom sometimes, and Victoria remembered just enough of her own mother to know they were not the same person. He talked a lot more about the pirate - Ravager, she tried to remember the term - captain who’d given him the music player, who raised him from about the same age she was now. Sometimes he called him Yondu and sometimes ‘dad’, though his mother was always ‘mom’ so there was some kind of difference there.

She wondered if Peter was kind of like her Yondu.

* * *

He knew they were going to have  _ the _ talk.

Victoria was extremely observant and intelligent, and Peter couldn’t imagine that one fine day she wouldn’t ask just  _ how _ they were related. He was surprised it hadn’t happened already. Peter was doing everything he could to step around the question, but he could tell Victoria was prodding however indirectly. The latest incident happened while he was in the cockpit, plotting their last two jumps to Knowhere.

“Okay, don’t get mad.”

Peter pivoted the pilot seat to see his sister and Gamora walking towards him. Victoria’s eyes were glued firmly to the ground with only an occasional glance at him, and he was pretty sure he’d worn the same expression when facing Yondu after crashing his first M-ship around age ten or eleven. The relaxed, almost amused look on Gamora’s face told him whatever it was, wasn’t serious.

“My two favorite ladies,” he grinned. “What’s up?”

The little girl held out the Zune to him. “I think I broke it.”

Peter took the devise, pressed the main button, and was met with a briefly flashing low battery symbol before the screen went blank again.

“It’s not broken, Vicky.” He smiled at his sister who was growing more and more distressed by the minute. “Just needs to be recharged, that’s all.”

Gamora nodded, “I thought it was something like that, but I don’t know where you keep the charger, and she was upset.”

“No problem at all.” He winked at his sister. “Next time you decide to break my stuff, be more creative.”

“Sorry!” Victoria, usually pretty good at catching humor and sarcasm, didn’t seem too comforted by any of that. “I know you really,  _ really _ like that thing.”

“I do,” Peter agreed. “My dad gave it to me.”

“The pirate captain.”

And there it was. Despite the fact that they never talked about various complex family connections, Victoria had clearly picked up on a lot by osmosis. He’d made it a point never to lie to her, not when it mattered. If - when - she asked him to elaborate, he would. For now he just smiled and pulled her into his lap for a hug.

“Yup, but even if you did break it, I have backups.” He planted a kiss on top of her head. “It’s a close one, but I  _ think _ I still like you better, baby sis.”

A sly smile tugged at the corner of Victoria’s mouth. “But you like Gamora best.”

“Ah...” Damn, this kid never missed a beat. Gamora covered her mouth to stifle a laugh at his embarrassment. He went with the best response he could think of. “It’s a very different kind of ‘like’, Vicky.”

“I know,” she replied cheerfully, wriggled out of his grip, and ran off to presumably play with Groot since it was time she had to herself.

He looked at Gamora. “That kid’s trouble. I don’t remember being this bad at her age.”

“You mean you don’t remember being that clever,” his companion corrected, still smiling.

“Yeah, clever girl,” Peter reached for her hand and Gamora let him entwine their fingers together. “So when we get to Knowhere, want to go on an excellent adventure me?”

A dark eyebrow went up. “Last time we went on an adventure planet-side, we came back with a small child.”

“Technically Knowhere is not a planet. It’s a…” Peter wrinkled his nose. “You know what, new rule: let’s not mention the C word ever again, especially around Vicky.”

Logically he knew that the word ‘Celestial’ was a very broad term to describe beings that really had nothing to do with each other, but even less to do with everyone else. They got lumped into the same category simply for being at a similar level in the universe’s power org chart.

“You’ll have to talk to her about it eventually,” Gamora squeezed his hand sympathetically. “She’s already asking questions.”

“I know,” Peter sighed. “I’ll talk to her. Eventually. It might have to involve a retelling of  _ Empire Strikes Back _ .” Gamora tilted her head questioningly, a common look for her whenever he mentioned anything from Earth. “It’s a really awesome Terran movie, and the big twist is that the main bad guy is the hero’s father. And his sister’s actually, but you don’t find out that part until the last movie. Anyway, he redeems himself in the end though, so I’m not sure it’s the best analogy.”

“I… don’t think that’s the best way to go about it,” the green skinned woman gave him a dubious look. “It’s likely to just confuse her.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “How long do you think I have before I have to deal with it?”

“Depends. When are you planning to tell her where children come from?”

_ Never! _ “I was hoping you’d take care of that part?”

“Don’t hold your breath, Star-Lord.”

“Okay, well, the point is it won’t be today or tomorrow, so back to this adventure…”

He thought he’d earned a reprieve from the topic for a while, but when Peter returned to his quarters a few hours later, he was mildly horrified when the sound of  _ Brandy _ by Looking Glass reached his ears. Of all the songs from the Awesome Mix Vo l. 2 that had been lost, only that one happened to also be preloaded onto the Zune which Peter considered a cruel joke by the universe. Even with the device still charging, Victoria had apparently figured out how to get the music to play from the backups on the Milano’s main hard drive.

If only she’d picked  _ any _ other of the 300+ songs.

“Can I change this?”

It wasn’t really a question because as soon as he stepped into his quarters, Peter made a beeline for the computer console, walking right past his sister and Groot. Victoria had been teaching the other child a game that looked like some sort of Spartoi version of Patty Cake, but stopped and looked up at her brother.

“I like that song,” she objected, though not very strongly. The girl had been going through his music on her time between training and ship studies, trying to figure out what appealed to her.

“I am Groot,” agreed the sapling.

“Well, I don’t.” It came out more harshly than Peter had intended. The two children just stared at him. “Look, my mom really liked this song, and it… it makes me sad.”

Actually it made him angry. Extremely angry, but his sister didn’t need to know that. His explanation wasn’t exactly a lie either, and Victoria seemed willing to let it go for now. She gave him a curious look.

“What songs did your dad like?”

Peter thought about it. Had Yondu liked  _ any _ of his music? He complained about it a lot, sure, but Peter could vaguely recall the captain’s blue fingers tapping on the side of the console where the various knick knacks were lined up when he forced him to listen to certain songs, and it said something that Yondu had kept some of them even after Peter had left the Ravagers. He scrolled through the list of songs on the screen.

“How about this one?”

_ Come a Little Bit Closer _ by Jay and the Americans came on through the room’s speakers, and the kids instantly perked up. Not bad as far as diversions, Peter figured. And, okay, it wasn’t the cleanest song in the world, but he doubted they would notice. With the two preoccupied with music, Peter sat down at the computer console and went to work.

Between the crash landing on Berhert and the Chitauri attack, the Milano was flying but could have definitely used some tender love and care. Peter pulled out a list of parts they still needed to complete repairs, combined it with the one Rocket had given him while simultaneously throwing out items that the raccoon had attempted to sneak into it that had nothing to do with the ship, and began marking off locations on Knowhere that he knew they would have to hit up to get them. The crew would take care of whatever personal items they wanted, and he made a note to go with Victoria to get her more clothes and something to entertain her. There were a few other items on his shopping list, everything from food to restock the ship's pantries to… He glanced over at his sister.

“Hey, Vicky, do you want to do me a favor?” she nodded enthusiastically. “We need to do something really nice for Drax since he helped us out a lot recently. Can you think of something?”

“A new toy?” she nodded her head towards her bunk at the pink stuffed animal. “Because he gave me his.”

Peter gave her a sad smile. “I don’t think he wants a new toy, baby. This one’s special because it was his daughter’s.”

“Maybe she wants it back.”

Groot let out a low mournful sound that made Victoria look at him in confusion. As much as he’d dreaded the mere idea of the ‘where do babies come from’ conversation, Peter knew this was going to be much worse.  He sighed and held out his arms to her. “Come here.”

* * *

Victoria didn’t understand.

Oh, she was certainly old enough to understand death. She understood that people grow old or sick and pass away, and that it was sad but it was okay to die.

What she  _ didn’t _ understand was killing.

She didn’t understand why someone would want to tear a family apart and make people sad on purpose, when all she wanted to do was to make her family and friends happy, no matter how new it all was or how hard it was to define sometimes.

* * *

She was quiet for the rest of what constituted as their evening, which was understandable but also made Peter anxious. As far as he was concerned, kids should be loud, run around, that sort of thing. But like it or not, he could understand this kind quiet, the quiet of grief, because that’s what Victoria was doing, grieving for a girl she’d never met and for her friend whose heart would never truly be whole again.

He wasn’t really surprised when she climbed into his bed, dragging Mr. Rhinopus along, ten minutes after he’d called lights out. Any normal night, for the sake of continued progress, Peter might have made it a point to make her sleep in her own bunk but figured these were extenuating circumstances. After a few minutes of lying curled up next to him, she pushed the toy forward.

“I want to give it back to Drax.”

Peter knew where this was going but played along. “You don’t like it?”

“I do! But… he needs it more.”

“He’s happy that it makes you happy,” her brother assured her. “We’ll think of something really awesome to get Drax, but this is yours now. Just take good care of it.”

She chewed on her lip for a moment. “Why don’t you like that song?”

“ _ Brandy _ ?” He wasn't sure where the question was coming from. “Because my mom liked it, and it makes me sad. I told you this already.”

“But Kamaria liked Mr. Rhinopus, and it makes Drax happy. And your dad liked that other song, and you don’t mind it.”

Peter groaned. “Are you aspiring to be a lawyer or something?”

“What’s a ‘lawyer’?”

“Nevermind.” He took a deep breath. “Look, the truth is… it wasn’t just my mom who liked that song. There was someone else… a bad man...”

“Like Ronan?”

“Yeah, very much like Ronan. He liked that song, too, and he… hurt my mom. Real bad. And it makes me sad and also very,  _ very _ angry.”

“Hurt?” Even in the darkness, he could see her looking up at him. “How Ronan hurt Kamaria and her mom?”

Peter swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Because though he’d raged about it, shouted it at the top of his lungs, he just couldn’t bring himself to use words like ‘kill’ or ‘murder’ around her, especially if the murderer in question was their biological father. He’d said that Ronan had hurt Drax’s family and that’s why they weren’t there with him, but Peter was pretty sure she could read between the lines. This was just confirmation of that.

After another moment of silence she asked, “What happened to your dad?”

Peter knew it wasn’t the girl’s intention to cause him pain, but the whole evening felt like a thousand small slashes on his skin for every question. “He died saving my life.”

“Oh,” she hesitated before asking, “Was he… was he my dad, too?”

“Yondu?”

The question caught him so off guard that Peter had to try very hard not to laugh, because the interaction between the two would’ve been entertaining at the very least. Once again, hindsight being 20/20, he could see that all things considered Yondu had been pretty good with him when he was a kid. Sure, they butted heads a lot, but he’d taught him everything he needed to survive, and while the Centurion had been extremely reserved with his affections, Peter remembered seeing pride in the man’s eyes on many occasions. The only difference might have been that Victoria would’ve had the old man wrapped around her little finger in minutes.

“He would’ve probably been like your… grandpa,” he said finally, because as certain as he was that the Ravager captain would’ve adored the girl, Peter was much less sure that Yondu would have been up for actually  _ raising _ another kid. Since this conversation was apparently happening whether he liked it or not, Peter decided to test the waters and take it a step further. “You know, he wasn’t always my dad. I didn’t have one at all for a while.”

Victoria nodded. “Some of the kids I lived with got new parents because their old ones died or didn’t want them anymore.”

“Exactly like that.” That was... surprisingly easy.

“But… everyone has parents that, you know,  _ made _ them. Right?”

_ ‘Made them’?! _ “Umm… what did they tell you about that stuff on Spartax?”

“That sometimes the mother and father who made you are the same ones that love you and take care of you and sometimes they’re different and it’s okay,” she quoted, as if reciting a lesson. Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, that… that sounds about right.” If she wasn’t going to elaborate, he was more than happy to consider that bullet dodged for now. “So… Drax and Kamaria’s mommy and Kamaria are like the first kind of family, and we’re like the second kind. Understand?” With some of the first kind mixed in, but they’d talk about  it later.

“Yes,” Victoria nodded.

“Good girl,” he hugged her. “Can we go to sleep now? We’ll be at Knowhere tomorrow and I don’t want you to be tired. Still need your help when we get there, remember?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my bff Mary who, whenever 'Brandy’ comes on during our car rides, can’t help but yell ‘douche!’ Ego kind of ruined this song for her apparently ^^;;


End file.
